Dissociative - DenNor
by gingus-doon
Summary: Mathias dissociates. Sigurd never knew, until now.


The sound of fingers hitting a keyboard was the only sound he'd heard in far too long, along with some sighs that came out of somewhere sometimes.

He couldn't quite tell if these noises were coming from him. He barely felt like he was here, instead hovering above himself in a little bubble.

He felt numb.

So numb, that he didn't notice someone shaking his shoulders from behind him.

They were saying something, but it was muffled. After sometime, though, he could make out the meaning of the noise.

"Mathias."

Was that him? Was he even here right now?

"Mathias. Mathias!"

"Hm?" A little hum of acknowledgement worked it's way up from the back of his throat, slipping into the open air. He wasn't really sure what was going on, though.

"C-n y.. he-.. me?"

Everything sounded muffled. Somewhere inside of his soul, a dull discomfort was starting to bloom from this situation. Still, he couldn't snap out of it.

"Mat? Mat?"

It took him a while to realise something was touching his face. The world looked oddly out of focus in a way he couldn't explain, as if he was watching a low quality movie from a far enough distance for it to be blurry.

He couldn't quite move. Just sit in this bizzare, unsettling surrealism.

Before he knew what was happening, he was watching himself walk. He didn't know _how_ he was walking, he couldn't feel his legs moving. But, he was moving.

Then he was in a bed. Then, his eyes must've been closed, because he couldn't see anything anymore.

Now that he thought about it, he was tired. Thin, flowy thoughts of not getting enough sleep last night floated in his hazy, otherwise empty head for a while, until he began to drift.

It wasn't long before he'd fallen asleep, but to him, it felt like a while.

Mathias bolted up as if someone had woken him up with an air horn.

He felt grossly sweaty, noticing immediately that he'd been trapped under three fairly large blankets.

His stomach burned, his mouth was dry, his heart was racing, for whatever reason-

And then he saw Sigurd, sitting in a wooden chair beside his bed.

"What's your problem?" He said casually, looking up from a thick, brown book he'd had in hand. Hard back, probably.

"I, uh," Mathias glanced around the room, pushing the blankets off of himself, "Were you watching me sleep?"

"Not really, I was just making sure you didn't die."

"Why would I do that?" Mathias asked, very confused. He thought very hard about what happened before he passed out, and wisps of vague memories began to come to the surface of his consciousness.

However, all of that was forgotten as soon as Sigurd put his book down, came towards him, and put his hand on his cheek. Mathias looked up at him, still very, very confused. He could only hope that his cheeks wouldn't burst, and- oh shit, he was blushing now. Right in front of Sigurd.

"What are you blushing for?"

"What are you touching my cheek for?" Mathias countered, though he made no effort to get Sigurd's hand off of him.

"I'm seeing if you have a cold." Sigurd said as if it was obvious.

"You know, most people go for the forehead for that kinda st-- hey, oww." Sigurd had pinched his cheek pretty firmly, but Mathias took it as a show of affection more than anything else. Then, Sigurd's hand went up to his forhead.

Mathias moved his eyes upwards to the hand, as if it would tell him if he had a cold or not. Sigurd soon sighed and sat down beside him on the now disorganized bed. Mathias prepared himself for the bad news;

"You're not sick."

"Then why'd you sigh?" Mathias quirked an eyebrow.

"Stop asking so many questions."

"I haven't asked that many questio--" Mathias was again shut up with a pinch on the cheek, though this one was softer than the last. It didn't hurt at all.

As soon as Sigurd's hand went down from his cheek to the bed's fitting sheet, Mathias looked at him expectantly. He began to think about the events that led him to this bed once more, and then-

"Do you remember what happened?"

"I, uh, I think so." The Dane's memory of the event was very fuzzy, but he could remember feeling as if he was living in a haze outside of himself. The thought alone unnerved him.

"You were doing some work on the computer. I tapped your shoulder and called your name, but you didn't respond."

"Was that it?"

"No, let me finish. I shaked your shoulders a lot, and I yelled at you, but you still barely responded. I got you up and lead you to your bed because I figured you needed some sleep. I guess I was right."

"Hmm.." Mathias thought about the story for a second. It wasn't the first time that had happened to him, but that's the first time it'd happened to him with Sigurd around. Now, he just had to figure out what to say.

"Hey Sig, do you know what dissociation is?"

"No."

"Can you look it up and read about it?"

Sigurd wordlessly pulled out his phone, tapping on the screen for a while. Then there was silence, besides the sound of their breathing. Mathias found himself beginning to get anxious. A minute or so later, Sigurd spoke, to Mathias' relief.

"That's what it was?"

"Yep, no doubt about it." Mathias said with a bit of a nervous smile.

"..is that the first time it's happened to you?"

"Nope." Mathias exhaled, noting that Sigurd was now looking at him with those intense indigo eyes of his. Internally, he shrunk away from their glare. A tense silence befell them again as Sigurd stared at Mathias, who was desperately trying to avoid looking in his eyes by looking at the ceiling, the filled shelves, the greyish carpet flooring, anything else.

"Mat."

"Yes?" He asked a

softly.

"It said that dissociation is caused by trauma."

"Well, it can also be caused by anxiety, but.."

"Mat."

"Yes?" His voice came out more timidly than the last time he'd responded to Sigurd, and it was getting a bit harder to breathe.

Sigurd shifted his position on the bed, sitting closer to Mathias. At this point, Mathias felt it'd be more awkward to look away from him than to look at him, so, reluctantly, the troubled ocean met a vivid galaxy.

"Are you okay?"

That question set off all Mathias' "not okay" synapses in his brain. He gulped soundlessly, noticing how that discomfort he'd been feeling was a lump in his throat. _Great._

"Yeah Sig, I'm okay, I just.." His voice got shaky, as did his hands, and it felt to Mathias like every part of him was shaking a bit. Sigurd waited silently for Mathias to continue, but Mathias couldn't see his expression-- he'd turned his eyes away as soon as he feared they were getting watery.

"I've just been dealing with some stuff for a while. You know, depression, anxiety, but it's fine.." Mathias inhaled a breath so sharp it almost hurt, and he realised his composure would soon deteriorate. He started to feel ashamed, as if he shouldn't allow himself to cry around Sigurd. After all, the only times he'd cried around Sigurd before were during sad movies and little things, like a broken coffee mug. He'd always kept the heaver things to himself. He never imagined he'd be here, telling Sigurd about this.

Sigurd didn't push him, nor did he speak another word. He just did something he never had done before.

Mathias felt a pair of arms wrap themselves around him in a surprisingly gentle hug. He felt bad for being a crybaby, but he was glad this had happened anyway-- they'd known each other for a while now, about six months, and Sigurd had never given him a hug, despite Mathias' willingness to give out hugs at the drop of a hat.

Sigurd shifted again, getting in a position more optimal for hugging, and Mathias leaned into the comforting touch. He shakily exhaled as if he'd let go of a breath he'd been holding for a couple of months now.

"Is this fine?" Sigurd queried softly, pulling Mathias a bit closer.

"Yeah, this is fine."

His voice was barely audible, but Sigurd seemed to hear it well enough. Within seconds, tears were streaming down Mathias' face, and it was all he could do to keep himself quiet while crying. Sigurd was kind enough to rub his arm tenderly as he did so, uttering soothing words and phrases like "it's okay" as soon as he noticed Mathias was crying.

All of this reminded Mathias just how hard he was crushing on Sigurd. But, he decided that was a problem for another time. For now, he just wanted to lose himself in the healing presence of Sigurd's arms around him.


End file.
